Fall Out Boy live in Manila: Save Rock and Roll

Blood brothers in desperation
An oath of silence
For the voice of our generation
How'd it get to be only me?
Like I'm the last damn kid still kicking
That still believes
I will defend the faith
Going down swinging
I will save the songs
That we can't stop singing

- Fall Out Boy (Save Rock and Roll)

I wouldn't want to ply on how, as a kid back in 2007, I cried not getting to attend either one of the two Manila concerts that Fall Out Boy pulled off (it was a long story that involved a mosquito and a hospital). I don't want to even weed out feelings of disappointment when they returned two years after and I was too broke and too busy to even consider attending. Then, I wouldn't want to purge out all hidden frustrations that surrounded me upon learning that there wasn't going to be any Fall Out Boy anymore, especially when I realized that I haven't been (and might possibly never be) to any of their concerts.



Four years later. Save Rock and Roll tour. Smart Araneta. No way am I going to miss this one. The Fates, though, I had felt, had worked against me from the time I bought the tickets, when the woman at the counter claimed that the machine could not seem to process my request. I was forced by school work to sleep for only two hours the night before the concert. And, I even went to Trinoma to see all four members "close up", but was caught up in such a grueling traffic that rooted from Philcoa, forcing me to get down from the jeepney and run across the road instead. It was 3 PM - I was an hour too late. No more people, no more CD's, no more media, not even a tuff of Joe's hair in sight. I was distraught.



Which, ultimately led me and Bet as early as 4 PM to the general admission gates of Smart Araneta. Then we basically bitched about the heat and brayed about how exciting it was to raise passers' eyebrows whenever they see the length of the line that was gradually getting longer.



Representatives from music retail stores were selling us (early birdies) SIGNED SAVE ROCK AND ROLL CD'S. Bet and I were initially going to let it pass - you see, we were hoping for merch, which after a while, we dismissed as a stupid thing to have as compared to owning a SIGNED Fall Out Boy CD. What made it more arousing was the fact that I actually didn't have the Save Rock and Roll CD, nor had I listened to it yet. I just needed to have one!



It was the best thing that happened to my life. Call it some act of Divinity: a miracle or some deux ex machina, for it certainly felt like all those things.



Typecast opened for FOB, during which a lot of those in general admission jumped over the railing and settled in Upper Box B! I had expected a riot! Bet and I were just about to do the same thing when the security guard finally noticed. And, I swear, he engaged in an aggressive pushing bout with this guy who was trying to help everybody else get down from the railing. In time, THE POLICE CAME and coerced the gen ad people to stay contained in their box - that means sending back everyone who jumped into the Upper Boxes.



After what seemed like eternity, the name "Fall Out Boy" flashed across the arena screen. The hair on my arms stood as soon as I heard Jay-Z's voiceover and what was unmistakably Thriller on drums, and I distinctly recalled writing "Long live the car crashed hearts" in all my school projects in 2007. Twenty songs, throughout which my brain began retrieving floods of memory from when I first listened to this particular track. Patrick said, "Kumusta?" and told us about his Filipina wife. Pete said that he had eaten "Chicken ABODO" (lels). We gen ad people did the Wave, actually! Andy stood up from his drum set and sang! We chanted "We want more!" when the lights turned off, and the band was, I suppose, changing outfits. Lost my voice.



I was there, my arms in the air, singing the songs, thinking how good it felt to feel so much at home that I cannot process anything else. Not the impending doom of school work, not the sweat that entrapped me, not the sleep that my body should have demanded by the time it was all over, not even going home. Six years - and I can't believe that I finally went to see Fall Out Boy live.



It was the adrenaline rush that anyone not in attendance had missed significantly. The feel of the crowd bouncing on cement along with the sound of drums and guitars resonating across the arena, giving life to space that was once empty and cold. It was that excitement (for lack of a better word) that shoots up to every nerve in your body that lets you know how completely real and profound this is. The heart cannot explain its rapid beating; it seems to keep pace with the rhythm of songs to which you've listened for years. Songs, that had created the most impact throughout the teenage years. Songs, which lyrics now emanate through the walls of the arenas because of powerful unfamiliar voices that carry the same mark. Underdogs and anti-heroes. A fucking special night for a fucking special band who taught you to "sing until your lungs give out". Surreal; it was haunting and unforgettable and intense and beautiful.

Legit: the most important things are the hardest to say.

Thank you, Fall Out Boy.

It was the best night of my life.